


You're a wizard, Dudley!

by Darkside_Royalty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkside_Royalty/pseuds/Darkside_Royalty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a work of fiction set in a parallel universe where Dudley Dursley, too, gets an acceptance letter from Hogwarts. It will concentrate on Harry Potter and him going to Hogwarts together, how Vernon and Petunia cope with the situation, and how things will end up being like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure how regularly I will post chapters. Also, please note that English is not my mother tongue, therefore mistakes will probably be made. But I will do my very best to meet your expectations. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the story.

Mr and Mrs  Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They had a perfectly normal life, Mr Dursley selling drills for a large company, Mrs Dursley staying at home to care for their son Dudley, who was also perfectly normal. They lived in the average British two-story house, surrounded by a perfectly average garden showing off perfectly symmetrical flower beds with roses, chrysanthemums, and violets. The Dursleys‘ property was in no way distinguishable from any of their neighbours‘ properties, for Privet Drive seemed to be a place of dull repitition, where everything different was frowned upon.

Although the Dursleys would never have admitted it, there was one little factor in their lives that was not only imperfect but very much out of the ordinary. Besides Mr Dursley, who was a stout man with hardly any neck, his wife Mrs Dursley, who had twice as much neck as any person would believe, and their son Dudley, who was looking so much like his father it was almost unnatural, there was another boy living in the Dursley household. His name was Harry Potter and he looked as un-Dursley-ish as it was possible. When he had only been one year old, his parents had died in a car crash and he had ended up with his mother’s sister and her family. In contrast to his aunt, uncle, and cousin, Harry had untidy black hair which always seemed to do whatever it wanted, he was too small for his age and almost underfed. The latter was underlined by the fact that he only had his cousin’s old clothes to wear, which were much too big for him as his cousin was not only much taller but also much bigger than him. Considering the Dursleys not wanting to attract any attention, it was rather weird that Harry only got hand-me-down clothes which are ripped at some places more often than not. But it didn’t matter. He had had a bad life at the Dursleys ever since he arrived there and it probably would never change. Or so he thought. But he would soon realise that he was mistaken.

 

It was a perfectly ordinary wednesday during the summer holidays, the sun was blazing terribly from the sky, even in the few shadows there were over 27 degrees. The bird bath in the Dursley’s front garden had been full of water for a day or two but nobody had cared to refill it once it had dried out. Therefore there were no birds enjoying the wet coolness. Uncle Vernon was one of those people who didn’t like birds because they tended to be so horribly noisy, so of course he was rather happy about the lack of them.

The television in the kitchen was turnt on and the family was sitting around the table eating pancakes, except Harry who, as always, stood in front of the oven providing them. The news anchor announced that this wednesday, July 24th, was officially going to be the hottest day during the past twenty years. Uncle Vernon looked at the thermometer near the window.

**“Blimey, almost 30 degrees already! And it’s 9 in the morning!”** Sweat was running down his forehead, collecting at his brow. Harry was awaiting the moment when it would drip down onto his uncle’s food. He had always thought that the latter was a disgusting man, not because he was rather fat but, particularly, because of his behaviour.

**“Ah, there’s the postwoman. Boy, go and get the mail!”** Harry hurried to get to the hallway before his uncle started telling him how useless he was and that he couldn’t even do an easy task like getting the bloody post from the doormat. Of course, Harry was capable of many things and getting the post was something he had learned at a very early age but sometimes he just didn’t move fast enough to satisfy his uncle’s expectations.

 

Harry reached the doormat and picked up the pile of letters. Although he had never gotten a letter in his entire life, he always checked the addresses of every single thing arriving at the house, just in case. He had never been lucky. Yet. Reaching the penultimate letter, he rubbed his eyes. But the name on the envelope didn’t change, it really was his own. But the address was rather funny, he had never seen anything like it before. It said:

 

Mr H Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs,

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging

Surrey.

 

**“What the hell is taking you so long?!”** Uncle Vernon’s voice brought him back to his senses right away. He hurried back to the kitchen but not before deciding that his aunt and uncle probably wouldn’t let him have his letter and therefore throwing under the pillow in his cupboard. When entering, everyone was looking at him.

**“What did you do out there? Surely you don’t need that much time to go to the door, pick up some letters, and come back here?!”** Vernon’s tone was unmistakably angry. Harry didn’t bother to answer and gave everything to his uncle.  **“So?”**

**“I checked if maybe there was a letter for me, too.”** His aunt and uncle started laughing and, after a moment, even Dudley joined in, looking from one parent to the other. It hadn’t been a lie but, of course, he would never tell them that he actually had received one.

**“And who do you think would write to YOU?”** Petunia’s words didn’t hurt him. Not anymore. He had withstood her mockery for several years. Besides, he knew very well that she was right. Nobody could write to him because he didn’t have friends or family. The more he wondered who had written him the letter hidden under his pillow, especially with this address on the envelope. Nobody knew that he was actually living in a cupboard. But there it had been on the letter, as if it was totally normal to write a person’s bed’s exact location on it.

 

Just as  Harry was about to stand up, something extraordinary happened. The very last letter in the pile looked like the same letter Harry had just hidden in his cupboard. He suddenly felt queasy. Had he accidently put the wrong letter under his pillow? He swallowed hard.

**“Petunia, look at this letter.”** Vernon’s voice was suddenly quiet, as if something had happened that wasn’t supposed to happen at all. Harry’s aunt went over to see what her husband was making a fuss about but when she saw the address, her eyes became wide and all colour seemed to drain from her face. Harry was moving down on his chair, trying very much to become invisible.

**“What is it?!”** Dudley had gotten up and around his parents to take a look at the envelope before any of them was able to react. Harry had never seen his cousin this agile. **“Oh, it’s for me!”** He grabbed the envelope but his father wouldn’t let it go. Had Harry heard that right? The envelope was for his stupid cousin. Thank god. He had hidden the right letter after all.

**“Dad, give me my letter!”** Dudley was already speaking way louder than necessary and Harry had a feeling that he’d very soon be throwing a temper tantrum. Vernon stood up and held the letter high above his head, so that Dudley couldn’t reach it. But instead of giving up, the latter climbed on a chair and leaned in on his father to grab the envelope. However, while still shouting at his father to give him what was his, he lost balance and almost fell.

**“Dudley, be reasonable! This is not meant fot you, it’s just a mistake!”** While Vernon tried to hold the letter as far away from Dudley as possible, Petunia just stood there watching them in Horror. Harry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His aunt and uncle had never before forbidden Dudley anything.

**“That’s enough.”** At first her voice was quiet but she had apparently gotten a hold of herself again.  **“I said that’s enough!”** Both Vernon and Dudley stopped for a moment, looking at her in awe. But not for long. Only after a second or so Harry’s cousin again grabbed for the letter. But Petunia was apparently having none of it. She grabbed her son by the upper arm and almost dragged him down the chair. **“Go to your room, Dudley!”** Harry looked at her and then at his cousin who seemed to be dumbstruck. Never before had she spoken to her precious son like that. Of course, he didn’t really know what to do right away, if she was serious or not.

**“Dudley, I’m serious. Go to your room.”** The quiet tone she used now seemed to frighten Harry’s cousin even more. He slowly cimbed down the chair and looked at his mother again, checking if she really was serious. Petunia raised her arm and pointed in direction of the door.  **“Now.”** Dudley still looked like he didn’t know what to do but now was doing as his mother had said. Harry was still sitting there, staring at both of them, his mouth slightly open. **“You, too!”** Her words brought him back to reality fast. He stood up and left the room right after his cousin who had already run up the stairs. But Harry stayed in the hallway, listening. Maybe his aunt and uncle would say something which made him understand the situation. They both had acted very un-Dursley-ish ever since he had brought the letter in. He was very glad that he had thought of hiding his own letter. If his aunt and uncle reacted to Dudley getting a letter like this, god knows how they would have reacted if they knew that Harry had gotten one, too.

After a while, Harry decided to go to his cupboard to play a bit. He reached the door and opened it but just as he was going to slip inside, he heard voices in the kitchen. Or rather, one voice. His aunt’s. She said four words which made even less sense to him than anything that had happened until now.

**“I recognise the handwriting.”**


	2. Two

Harry Potter stopped dead. He stood there for a moment, listening, not daring to move and maybe make a noise. At first, nothing happened but after a few seconds, his aunt spoke again.

 **“How is this possible? Why would Dudders get a letter from that place?”** He heard them moving around in the kitchen and didn’t even dare to breathe.

 **“More importantly”** , said Vernon, **“shouldn’t the boy have gotten one, too?”** Harry’s eyes widened in Horror. How in the name of sanity did they know that he had gotten one? Was he supposed to get a letter like this? But why? What was this all about?

 **“Do you think he might have hidden it before coming back into the kitchen?”** Harry moved without thinking. He got the letter from under his pillow, folded it and put it into his huge jeans pocket. The one without the hole, of course. He checked if it was visible, checked if anything seemed odd, and decided that everything seemed okay. If only he wouldn’t betray himself by mistake.

As soon as he was done checking his appearance, the kitchen door opened. Vernon and Petunia both came into the hallway, the first an angry look on his face.

 **“Did you eavesdrop on us?!”** Vernon’s voice was as loud and angry as ever but it didn’t have the same effect on Harry as it had when he was smaller. Not anymore.

 **“What? No!”** Harry’s tone was almost a bit too defensive. **“I was in my cupboard where you sent me but I just left it to go to the loo.”** His aunt and uncle both seemed suspicious but let it go. Vernon took a step forward and pulled Harry away from the cupboard by the arm. **“Ow!”** Harry’s arm now throbbed where his uncle had pulled him while his aunt went inside his cupboard and started obviously looking for something.

Vernon turnt Harry around so that they looked at each other. **“Did you get a letter?”** He looked intently at his nephew, searching for a sign that he was lying but when the boy finally did lie, his uncle didn’t notice. **“What do you mean, you didn’t get a letter?! You must have! Do not lie to me!”** Vernon pulled himself up to full height and for a moment Harry thought that his uncle would surely hit him.

 **“Vernon, there is nothing here.”** Vernon looked at Petunia who just shrugged. Vernon let go of Harry. Petunia pointed at him to clean up the mess she had made and stepped closer to her husband. Although she spoke very quietly, Harry could still hear what she said. **“I once overheard my sister talking to one of the lot that sometimes their children would be like us. You know, normal.”** Harry didn’t understand what she meant by that but he didn’t care. He just cared that they seemed satisfied with not finding a letter. All he wanted to do now was read it. But he wasn’t sure how safe it was to get inside his closet and start reading a letter his aunt and uncle both had tried to find just moments prior. He decided to wait and put the envelope back under his pillow.

 

Three hours later, Harry was washing the dishes in the kitchen. They had just had lunch and now his aunt and uncle were watching telly while his stupid cousin was undoubtedly playing computer games. It was absolutely unfair that he had always been the one doing all the chores. But he had stopped complaining at a very young age because complaining had only brought him more chores to do. Of all the things he did in this household, washing the dishes was his least favourite thing. He hated it when food rests were swimming around in the water and always shuddered whenever something touched him, no matter how tiny. He cringed at the mere thought.

He just cleaned the last piece of cutlery and got rid of the dirty water when he heard someone stomping around upstairs. This someone was, without a doubt, his cousin. His aunt and uncle hadn’t moved and were still comfortably sitting on the couch, after all. Harry was wondering if Dudley was still thinking about the letter, if he was wondering what it had said. Or maybe he had banned the subject from his mind because he knew there was no possibility of reading it now. Vernon had ripped it apart and burnt it afterwards. Whatever the contents, they were now forever lost. Or so everyone thought. Everyone except Harry who suspected that Dudley’s letter and his own would have had the same content. His curiosity was almost not measurable.

When he was done drying the dishes, he slowly opened the door to the living room where his aunt and uncle still sat. He cleared his throat to make them aware of his presence. **“I would like to go out and walk around a bit. Is that alright?”** Both Vernon and Petunia looked at him as if it was abnormal for a child to go and play outside before the latter answered him to be back before it was dark. Of course they didn’t care, there were no chores left to do. Harry was sure that they were glad whenever he was out of the house. He was glad to be alone, too. Or rather, he was glad not to be in their presence.

On his way outside, he opened the door to his cupboard, grabbed the letter and put it folded up in his pocket again and then made for the door. If he was going out now, he might as well take the letter and read it somewhere else than in his bed at night when he was sure everyone was asleep already. When he stepped outside, the sunlight almost blinded him. He held a hand in front of his eyes, slowly adjusting to the brightness. It was almost too hot to be true. He thought about going back in to get a water bottle, he would surely need something to drink in this heat sooner or later but he decided against it.

He turnt and started walking down the road, after a few yards recognising Mrs Figg, a neighbour who had to babysit him whenever the Dursleys were doing something fun, walking on the other side. **“Good Day!”** He nodded and she politely nodded back. Harry didn’t like her much. She had way too many cats and she always made him watch old photos of them whenever he went over. But at least she treated him like a human being with rights and feelings. His aunt and uncle only ever treated him like a household help and for his cousin Dudley he was nothing but a punching bag. On the other hand, Dudley used a lot of kids as punching bags because he was a bully. The worst kind.

 

After walking for a few minutes, he reached an old playground where he used to go every now and then. He sat down on one of the swings and took the envelope out of his pocket. **“Mr H Potter…”** He still couldn’t believe that he held this letter in his hand now. He had never gotten post and he still didn’t understand how whoever sent this knew that he lived in a cupboard under the stairs. Nobody knew that. The Dursleys had always pretended that they treated him just as they treated Dudley.

Harry turned the envelope over and, for the first time, took a closer look at the wax which sealed it. It was red and someone had stamped some kind of emblem in it. It was too small to recognise anything in particular, only a small word was readable at the top. **“Hogwarts…”** Did it really mean that? He had never heard of anything called Hogwarts but the letters unmistakably formed the word. In the center of the seal was some kind of coat of arms with a big H in the middle. Harry guessed that it stood for Hogwarts. The coat of arms itself was subdivided into quarters which seemed to be inhibited by tiny animals. He hardly dared to open the envelope as it would ruin the seal which he thought was rather pretty. But he was too curious to keep it the way it was. With one swift motion he opened the letter. There were two pieces of parchment inside, one of which looked like some kind of list. He decided to look at the other one first, only to find a letter addressed to him.

 

Dear Mr Potter, 

 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

 

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

 

Harry stared at the words in front of him. He re-read the letter twice before being sure that what he had read was definitely what the letter said. He hadn’t made a mistake. But, surely, this had to be a joke. A school of witchcraft and wizardry? What kind of person would send an 11-year-old boy such a letter? And, more importantly, why did this person send his cousin one, too? There was no such thing as magic and he knew that very well.

 **“This is bonkers!”** Harry suddenly remembered that there had been another sheet of parchment. He read it through as fast as he possibly could, keen to know more. The second piece of paper, as it happened, was exactly what it had looked like when he had taken a short look at it. It was a list. But not any list. This piece of parchment, as yellow-ish and old-looking as the other one, listed what he would need for this school. In big green ink the words “First Year students will require”. It said that Harry would need a wand, which was kind of logical considering that any wizard or witch Harry know from books had owned a wand. It also said that he would need a cauldron, a uniform, a set of phials, a telescope, and some other stuff, including a lot of books. The parchment even said that Harry was allowed to bring an owl, a cat, or a toad. This sounded too crazy to be true. He would throw the letter away later, when his aunt and uncle weren’t watching.

Harry slapped his forehead with one of his hands. **“Of course! Aunt Petunia said she recognised the writing! But how?”** He wondered if his aunt had gotten a joke letter like this before, too. Or maybe it was real. Yes, maybe this school existed, and maybe magic existed, too! Who knew? Hadn’t weird things often happened around Harry, like breaking glass or porcelain when he was very angry or scared. He remembered that a year prior to this, Vernon had blamed him for vanishing a glass pane in a zoo which had resulted in Dudley and his friend being attacked by a boa constrictor. He hadn’t understood it back then but now, holding this letter in his hands, he wondered if it really had been his fault. He laughed and put both of the pieces of parchmet back in the envelope. With the letter in his pocket once more, he sat there on the swing, thinking of nothing but a magical future.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took a while. I hope you like it anyway. Reviews are welcome!

Harry sat there for a long time, watching the sun sink lower and lower. He liked sunsets. The way the sun would dye the sky in the most extraordinary colours had always made him feel like something big was going on and that, maybe, he might one day be a part of it. Today a few clouds were in the sky, breaking the colours and making it look even more beautiful. There was orange, pink, red, and even some purple. He loved watching as the sky kept changing. But unfortunately this also meant that he didn’t have much time left. His aunt and uncle always wanted him back home before the street lamps turned on. On one occasion, he had been a few minutes late. Just thinking about the speech Vernon had given him made him get anxious. He should probably head back.

The letter still in his pocket, he got up and slightly adjusted his trousers. Leaving the house, his aunt and uncle had noticed nothing and when returning, they hopefully wouldn’t either. He just wondered if it might be better to just keep the envelope where it was until after dinner, or if he should hide it in his closet again. He thought it best to decide spontaneously. Maybe he would get the chance to go to the bathroom before dinner, thus being last to arrive in the kitchen.

 

**“Shouldn’t you be home already, Harry?”** The sudden appearance of Mrs Figg caused Harry to almost fall off the swing. There she was, looking at him as if he was the first person she had encountered for centuries. As mostly, she wore a hairnet under which her grizzled grey hair seemed to do whatever it wanted, and tartan carpet slippers. Harry didn’t understand how she could possibly walk around in slippers all the time, especially in winter.

**“I was just about to go back, actually.”** Harry stood up and walked over to where she stood at the fence. In this light, she looked even older than normally and that was quite something.

**“Better hurry up then, you don’t want to get into trouble, do you?”** Harry nodded as his neighbour turned around and slowly walked away. She was weird.

Harry looked after her for a while but then turned around and left the playground. The street lamps would very soon turn on, so he had to hurry up. When he was about two or three yards away from the Dursley’s house, the lamps did turn on and he started running. Hopefully his aunt and uncle wouldn’t be too angry with him. He saw the door open and light shining out of the corridor, when he was only one house away. Coming closer, he recognised a familiar looking silouhette, impatiently tapping his foot.

**“You’re late.”** Harry stopped in front of his uncle, bent over and put his hands on his knees, panting heavily. He tried to say something but couldn’t. His uncle stepped aside, grabbed him by his arm, and pulled him inside rather roughly.

**“Sorry, I forgot the time and I really hurried up to be punctual but I guess I can’t run fast enough.”** Harry said his apologies very fast and without any intonation, glad to be through the sentence and able to breathe again.

**“I don’t care about what you did or why you are late. Be happy that I won’t deny you dinner. Get to the bloody kitchen.”** Vernon started in direction of the kitchen, still clutching Harry’s arm but the latter freed himself and, after telling his uncle, who didn’t give a damn, that he needed the loo, he went upstairs and into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and sighed. That had been close. He imagined his uncle accidently touching his leg with his own, feeling that there was something inside his pocket, something which did not belong there. But it had not happened and as soon as he passed his cupboard, he would hide the letter in there again. Not underneath his pillow this time but underneath his mattress.

Harry left the bathroom and hurried down the stairs as quietly as possible. He didn’t want to risk anyone coming out of the kitchen while he hid the envelope, so he had to be silent. Slowly, he opened the cupboard door and slid inside. Not even bothering to turn on the light, he just grabbed the mattress, lifted it up, and put the letter there before pushing it down again neatly. With the little light coming in from the corridor, he checked that his bed did not look suspicious. It did not. Harry retreated from his tiny bedroom and closed the door. Once the deed was done, he sighed in relief.

 

Upon entering the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already sitting at the table, two of them shoveling food into their mouths so fast it was a miracle they hadn’t choked on anything yet, and Petunia blatantly ignoring the fact that her husband and son both ate like pigs. Harry was used to this sight and chose to ignore it, too. When sitting down, Vernon stopped for a second to make a remark about how long his nephew had been in the bathroom, just to continue eating like a man who hadn’t been eating for weeks. Harry ignored this, too.

Almost nothing of the Lancashire Hotpot, which his aunt had obviously made, was left. Harry hurried up to put a bit on his plate to get at least some food in his belly. Normally you’d think that people had the decency to wait until everyone was sitting at the table and until everyone had a serving on his plate but not the Dursleys, oh no. Not if it was their nephew they would have to wait for, anyway. But Harry was used to it and absolutely okay with it. As long as he got something to eat at all, there was nothing to complain. Not that he would ever dare to complain about anything anyway.

Harry didn’t like sitting on one table with his so-called family. His cousin made really weird noises when eating, his aunt was always busy telling the latest news of the neighbourhood, and his uncle only grunted once in a while to show Petunia that he was listening. Or maybe he was just pretending that he was listening. Maybe he wasn’t listening at all. Harry would’ve understood if his uncle had pretended. After all, who wanted to know that their direct neighbours’ cat had caught and eaten not only two mice but also a bird today? Oh, that’s right, nobody. Yet his uncle sat there and listened to his wife’s stupid stories about even more stupid things she had been observing.

**“I’m going to my room!”** Dudley hadn’t even swallowed the last bite of his dinner when he jumped up and hurtled out of the kitchen. Harry hated his cousin for this. He was envious that Dudley could do whatever he wanted to, leave right after he was done eating to go play computer games, go to bed whenever he wanted, and other priviliges he himself had never had and probably wouldn’t ever have either. It made him angry.

**“When you’re done eating, put the dishes in the dishwasher. And turn it on.”** Petunia had stopped talking about the observations of the day without her nephew noticing. She and Vernon both had finished eating already and left the work for Harry, as most of the time. He didn’t complain. He looked forward to being alone again.

**“Yes, aunt Petunia.”** Harry had almost finished eating, too. He put another bite into his mouth while watching his aunt and uncle leave the kitchen. As soon as the door was closed behind them, he ruffled his hair, rolled his eyes, and sighed. He ate up fast, got up and started putting all the dishes in the washer. At some point, he started humming to himself, nothing in particular, just to pass the time. It only took him five minutes to place everything safely in the dishwasher. He turned it on and left the kitchen, hoping nobody would call after him to give him another chore. Luckily, nothing happened.

 

Harry sat down on his bed, turned on the light, and closed his cupboard door. Although he was small and skinny for his age, he would soon be to tall for the place he had been sleeping in until now. He wondered where his aunt and uncle would put him then. Maybe they would make him sleep in the garage next to the car. He didn’t really want to think about it now, so he stopped and started wondering about something else. The letter. Harry took it out from under his mattress and, making sure nobody was in the corridor, noisily opened the envelope and took out the pieces of parchment. Reading these words again, he got a weird, light feeling in his chest. Maybe he would be able to go to this school. Maybe it was real. Maybe he would learn the most amazing magical things one day. Maybe he would have friends one day.

What Harry didn’t think about, however, was the way he had to send a letter back to the school. He required an owl. Where would he get an owl? He didn’t know. He didn’t care either. Not yet, anyway. But he had to send back an owl by no later than July 31st. Today was July 24th. He had seven days to figure this out.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry that this took so long. Hope you enjoy it.  
> Also, I don't really remember how to write quotes in English texts, so there might be mistakes. If so, please tell me!

Harry was flying through the air, the wind wipping his loosely fitting clothes around him. If it wasn’t for the belt, he would probably have lost his trousers by now but he didn’t care. He had absolutely no worries, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how to get down again. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten up either but it didn’t bother him at all. The only thing he was doing now was enjoying the feeling of freedom, the wind in his face. Higher and higher he climbed until he reached a cloud. It was a weird feeling flying through it, cold and somehow a little damp. He realised that he started freezing and decided to go back beneath the humongous single cloud. The rest of the sky was blue and cloudless, so he was soon flying in direct sunlight.

The sun was standing in a perfect angle for Harry to feel warm and cozy but at the same time not to be blinded by it. He looked around and was astonished to see wide green fields, a small river, and even a forest in the distance. He plummeted a couple of feet, taking in his surroundings. He could see the trees bending which meant that it was windy down there, too. The forest came closer and closer, and he desperately wanted to touch the leaves at the top. They were so close, he could almost reach them with his fingers. Only a few more inches. He stretched a little further and could feel the leaves on his fingertips. It wasn’t comparable to anything he had ever touched before, they felt leathery and dead but at the sametime fresh, a little humid, and very alive. Harry deeply inhaled the forest’s scent and considered landing and walking through the forest for a while, when suddenly and out of nowhere there was a blinding green light coming towards him.

Suddenly, he fell. Thick, broad branches didn’t stop him from falling but certainly did damage to him. Although he was so skinny, he hit a couple of things going down. He even made contact with a bird’s nest somewhere. He tried to hold onto something but he just couldn’t do it. Spinning around, Harry got a glimpse of the ground coming nearer. He was approximately twenty feet from being smashed into a heap of bones and flesh. Ten feet. He closed his eyes and prayed for it to end quickly. He was sure that he was going to die. Here and now. There was no way he would be able to survive this. He waited for the impact but it didn’t come. He opened his eyes. It was a mistake.

 

Harry woke up with a start, sitting upright and bumping his head on one of the stairs. Rubbing his forehead and grimacing in pain, he felt for his glassen and put them on when finally finding them. He highly disliked having to rely on glasses and had often wished that his eyes weren’t so miserable.

He lied back down and stared at the inside of the stairscase. He tried to remember the dream he had just had but couldn’t really. All he did remember was a blinding green light but he didn’t know what it meant. He decided to continue wondering about it later, sat up and opened the door a bit. It seemed to be bright day already, so he got up and out of the cupboard. Yawning, the boy stretched. Although he was small, he wasn’t able to stretch inside his cupboard anymore as he would constantly bump into the walls. Grabbing a few clothes, he listened for anyone else in the house but nobody seemed to be awake yet.

He silently snuck up the stairs and went into the bathroom. Harry took his time taking a shower and washing his hair. He liked having time to get ready. Mostly, he would have to hurry up because Dudley was always allowed to sleep longer than him during the week as he had to prepare breakfast and do the dishes before school. The weekends weren’t any better. But today was different. Somehow he had woken up before anybody else and now had all the time in the world.

He thoroughly enjyed the hot stream of water running down his neck and back and particularly liked to feel it on his scalp why getting his hair wet. He turned off the stream briefly to shampoo his hair and then turned it on again. He washed the shampoo out of his hair and could already feel it being much cleaner than before. He didn’t wash his hair so often because it always looked the same, no matter how long ago it would have been given a thorough wash. But at some point it would start feeling really gross, normally around the end of the third day. Today was day number four.

 

Harry left the bathroom approximately forty-five minutes later, his hair still pretty wet but already looking the way it always looked; like a wild mane, sticking up at the back, and just very unorganised in general. How his aunt and uncle hated his hair, they had often tried to cut it short but of no avail. Within a day it would have grown back. Petunia even cut off all of his hair once and he had been very afraid to go to school baldly but when he woke up the next day, he was astonished to look in the mirror and see the same messy hair as always. Vernon had locked him inside his cupboard for the whole day. However, after this had happened more than once, both Petunia and Vernon had given up on cutting his hair. Thinking about it, it was still too good to be true. Harry knew that his hair reminded them of his father because they had said something like that once, of course he was keen to keep it the way it was.

Quietly, he made his way down the stairs and crept back into his cupboard. He was sure that his aunt would call for him pretty soon anyway. It was already pretty late. He took out the envelope again, still not believing it. How in the name of sanity was he supposed to find an owl with which he could send a letter? Maybe he would ask his aunt, even if she was probably not going to be very cooperative. He read the few lines again. His owl would have to reach the school within six days. It seemed impossible.

 

Hurriedly, Harry put away the parchment when he heard movement upstairs. Under no circumstances did he want somebody to find out that he owned one of these weird letters. After all, he had lied about it yesterday when his aunt and uncle had positively broucht chaos to his small room in search of it, all the while he had hid it in his jeans pocket. They would kill him, he was sure of it.

**“Let Dudders sleep, dear. He can eat later when he gets up.”** He heard his aunt speak softly to her husband, taking care not to wake up her precious little son. His uncle muttered something in response before they both made their way downstairs. Vernon was probably walking in front of his wife. The footsteps of the first person were a lot more noisily than the second ones, indicating that the latter was most likely to be Petunia. Harry already dreaded the moment when one of them would knock on the door so loudly that he hit his head in shock. However, both his aunt and uncle passed his cupboard without disturbing. He decided to stay where he was for a couple of minutes before going after them.

 

Ten minutes later, he left his cupboard and went into the kitchen. Upon entering, Petunia looked up from her hot cup of coffee. **“Have you already been awake?!”** , she snapped. Harry nodded, wondering what he had done wrong this time. **“Why didn’t you start setting the table, then?”** He rolled his eyes which, of course, he regretted as soon as he had done it. **“Do not dare to roll your eyes at me and answer my question!”**

**“I got up, took a shower, and got back to my cupboard to get clothed. I didn’t even notice you coming down the stairs, there was simply no time to do it!”** He hadn’t wanted his voice to sound so fierce but it was clearly too late now. Instead of waiting for anyone to answer, he continued. **“I also washed my hair. I know you don’t like it when it’s messy, so now it is at least clean and smells nice.”** He attempted a smile but the faces of his aunt and uncle made it hard to look even remotely happy.

**“Well then. Do it now. Get four plates and make some toast.”** While going over to the cupboard, he thought about how his aunt could at least say ‘please’ when asking him to do something but no, everyone was impolite in this household.

Just as he got the cutlery out of one of the drawers, he heard his aunt asking her husband to go and wake their son after all. Harry didn’t quite understand why she would change her mind all of a sudden but he didn’t care either. **“Let him do it,”** Vernon said gently to his wife before turning to him. **“Boy! Go and wake up your cousin!”** He put the plates and cutlery on the table in front of his aunt and, very reluctantly, made his way up to Dudley’s room. His stupid cousin would probably hit him when he tried to wake him up. He wasn’t just a bully. In the mornings, he was a grumpy bully. How much Harry was looking forward to dodging his cousin’s fist.

He was past his cupboard when he heard something from outside. It was very quiet but it was clearly there. He stopped in front of the door and waited. It was probably the postman bringing the newspaper and some of the bills his uncle hated so much. He didn’t have to wait long before a few letters were shoved through the mail slot. He bent down and picked the everything up. Deciding he would get the whole business to his uncle before going upstairs, he flicked through the envelopes and noticed a familiar looking one. Stopping dead in his track, he stared at the address.

 

Mr D Dursley

The two rooms on the first floor,

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging

Surrey.

 

Another one of these letters. Why did Dudley get another one? Was it because Vernon and Petunia hadn’t allowed him to read the last letter? And if so, how did the addresser know that he hadn’t read it? Harry’s head was spinning but he had to do something about this. After all, this letter might be the answer to all of his prayers.

As fast and quietly as he could, he put Dudley’s letter into his jeans pocket, just as he had done the day before with his own envelope. Straightening his clothing, he turned around and went back to the kitchen. Neither his uncle nor his aunt looked at him when he entered, so he just approached the table and placed everything on the table. **“The post just arrived. I’ll go and wake up Dudley now.”** Nobody reacted in any way which meant for Harry that he was save to leave once more. He hurried up as much as he could without looking suspicious.

 

Before entering his cousin’s room, Harry knocked three times. Of course, there was no answer. He sighed and entered, closing the door behind him quietly. He walked over to Dudley’s bed and shook him slightly while saying his name. After the fifth try or so, the boy finally woke up.

**“What are you doing in my room?! Get out!”** He really was just as choleric as his father. As if one Vernon wasn’t enough. Harry held up his hands in defense, trying to calm his cousin.

**“First of all, stop shouting at me. Your father told me to wake you up.”** He grabbed the envelope which was still securely deposited inside of his pocket and pulled it out. **“And secondly, you got another letter, so you might consider being a little more quiet.”**


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long to update. I hope you'll still enjoy the read!

Harry Potter, who was re-considering if it had been a good idea to come here with the letter because his idiot of a cousin was shouting and possibly drawing attention to them more than necessary, held the envelope there in his hand, watching Dudley’s facial expression change from anger, to disbelief, to absolute bewilderment. Slowly, the latter stretched out his hand, reaching for his mail.

**“Why are you giving it to me?”** As soon as Dudley had gotten hold of the envelope, his eyes had wandered up to meet Harry’s.  **“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you give it to my father?”** Harry could see Dudley’s eyes narrowing and knew that he was sceptical. Maybe his cousin wasn’t as stupid as he thought after all.

**“It has your name on it, so I thought it would be the right thing to do. It is for you, not for uncle Vernon.”** He stopped there but decided to continue and just tell the truth.  **“Besides… I got a letter like this, too, and I wanted to know if yours says the same.”** At these words, Dudley’s eyes widened.

**“You got a letter, too? What did it say?”** He seemed to have completely forgotten that right there in his hand was the answer to that question.

**“Why don’t you open yours and find out?”** Harry sighed as his cousin nodded and ripped open his mail. Maybe Dudley was as stupid as he had thought.  **“Can you read it out? Then I can tell if mine says the same.”** The plump boy, who looked so uncannily like his father, nodded after some hesitation.

 

**“Dear Mr Dursley,**

 

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”**

 

Dudley stopped right there, looking flabbergasted. **“What? School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?”** Harry nodded and frantically gestured to his cousin to read on. His cousin really had gotten the same letter. Was this some kind of macabre joke?

 

**“Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on 1 September. A member of the Hogwarts faculty will arrive at your house on Friday, 26 July for further explanation.**

 

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**

**Deputy Headmistress”**

 

Harry stared at the letter in Dudley’s hand. Had he misheard? Did the letter really say that someone from the school would come to explain things? And tomorrow, no less! **“My letter didn’t say that someone would come here. Instead it told me to send an owl by 31 July.”** At these words, his cousin looked up from the piece of parchment.

**“An owl?”** He looked sceptical again. Harry shrugged.  **“Well, 26 July is tomorrow. Do you think there will really be anyone from this school coming here? Or do you think it’s a joke?”** Good questions to which Harry had no answer. He didn’t know what to think anymore.

**“I don’t know. I thought it was a joke but now that your letter roughly says the same, I am not so sure anymore.”** He thought about it for a moment before coming to a conclusion.  **“I guess, we will find out tomorrow. If someone really comes here, we will go to this school soon. If not, it was a joke.”** He turned around and walked towards the door. When reaching it, he stopped for a second and turned around again to face the other boy.  **“You should hide the letter somewhere. And hurry up, uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia won’t believe we had a little chat up here.”** With that, he opened the door, went through it, and closed it behind him, just catching a glimpse of Dudley putting the whole business under his mattress.

 

Ten minutes later, Dudley entered the kitchen. Harry was already sitting at the table, pretending not to see him while his aunt jumped up to show him how much she loved her son. Rolling his eyes as low-key as possible, he continued to eat his toast. He was rarely allowed to eat much and was therefore rather skinny but today he had managed to inconspicuously get a third slice. It was all a matter of timing, really. The moment his cousin had entered, both his aunt and uncle had looked at him to say their greetings. Harry had only had to be fast, which he was.

**“Good morning Dudders, did you sleep well?”** Petunia kissed her son on both cheeks which he obviously didn’t like very much. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t seem to care at all.

**“I did until he woke me up.”** He gave Harry nasty look, almost too much to believe but neither Vernon nor his wife seemed to take notice.

**“Well, it is time for breakfast. Sit down and eat.”** Turning to Harry, all the sweetness left her voice.  **“Go and make some more toast for your cousin.”** He didn’t even care, he just got up and walked over to the kitchenette, his plate in his hand, his toast lying on it. He would make Dudley toast all right but he would definitely not stop eating because of it.

**“So, son, what are your plans for today?”** Dudley drained a glass of orange juice which his mother had provided before he told his father in detail what he would be going to his best friend Piers, whose mother had promised to take them both to a swimming bath. Once again, Harry was jealous of his cousin. He had never been to a public swimming pool. Okay, he didn’t know how to swim, either but he was sure it wasn’t that hard. On the other hand, not for a million dollars would he go anywhere if Dudley would be there, too. Especially not somewhere the latter might accidently drown him.

**“When are you going over, then?”** His father sounded almost eager to get rid of him. Did he plan anything for today which his cousin was definitely not allowed to do? And if so, what had they planned on doing with him? He couldn’t stand another day of endless boredom at Mrs Figg’s. By now, he knew everything about her cats, each and every one of them. Their names were Mr Tibbles, Mr Paws, Tufty, and Snowy.

**“His mum wanted to come and get me around 11.”** Vernon’s face tried to smile and, thus, deformed it horribly. It looked like someone had horizontally split open his head.

**“That’s nice, Dudders.”** Aunt Petunia was a little more subtle about it but for Harry there was no doubt in this world that she was very grateful to get him out of the house, just like her husband did.  **“Why don’t we go upstairs and pack your bag? You’ll need new clothes to wear when you leave the public pool.”**

Dudley looked at his mother, a passive expression on his face.  **“Why? I can just wear the clothes I am wearing now!”** His mouth was full of toast and eggs but his parents had never really taught him not to talk with your mouth full. And now, Harry feared, it was too late to teach him. Vernon and Petunia would never dare to set their son boundaries anyway.

Petunia sighed.  **“Fine. At least take fresh knickers with you. The rest doesn’t matter.”** Harry had never understood how his aunt and uncle managed to have such different standards. He would never dare to talk back to them like that but Dudley didn’t have a problem with that at all. They probably deserved a misbehaved brat like his cousin.

Instead of answering or even acknowledging that his mother had talked to him, Dudley ignored her last statement completely and kept eating hastily. Harry had by now eaten his third slice of bread and was thinking about trying to get some of the egg but, of course, his cousin was faster and, most of all, selfish enough to take everything that was left. No eggs for Harry, then.

**“I want more juice.”** Dudley had hardly finished the short sentence when his mother jumped up to refill his glass. Dudley wasn’t the only one who wanted some more but Harry would definitely not ask his aunt for it. He would refill his glass himself.

When Dudley was satisfied with the amount of orange juice, Petunia closed the bottle.  **“Aunt Petunia, can you pass me the bottle, please? I’d like some, too.”** He had been perfectly polite and, though looking for an excuse not to give it to him, she didn’t seem to find one. Although looking at him disgruntled, Petunia did give him the bottle. Normally, he was often treated to water from the tap but whenever he had done all of his chores, like yesterday, he’d sometimes get a treat. Not chocolate, of course. But he wouldn’t complain about a glass of orange juice.

 

After they were all done eating, Petunia and Dudley went upstairs to pack a bag for him to take to the public pool. Vernon got up and made to leave the kitchen. Upon exiting, he turned around to his nephew.  **“I’ll do the dishes, uncle Vernon. No problem.”** He looked at Harry a bit like he suspected him of wanting to destroy the kitchen but turned around and left anyway. Finally, the boy was alone again. He’d do the dishes just as promised and then go to his cupboard, hoping that everybody would just leave him alone. He wanted to think about this whole magic thing again and he didn’t want company while doing it. Ironically, his cousin was now the only one he could talk to about this topic. His cousin who approximately possessed the intelligence of a bread stick. He probably wouldn’t have to say much about it anyway. Nothing Harry hadn’t already thought about himself, anyway.

Upon cleaning the last piece of cutlery, Petunia entered the kitchen again. Harry turned around for a second to see who it was, then continued finishing his chore. **“Your uncle and I have plans for today, so you will spend the day at Mrs Figg’s house. You’ll go over at 11, the same time Dudley leaves.”** She didn’t wait for an answer but proceeded to the living room where her husband was watching telly. This was what Harry had feared. He really didn’t want to go. It wouldn’t always be such a torture if she didn’t talk about her cats so much. On the upside, she often provided him with hot chocolate and biscuits. Once, she had even prepared a surprisingly delicious dinner. That had been a good day.

 

Putting the last plate in the cupboard, Harry put the towel away and turned to the big clock which was consistently ticking on the wall. The small hand was between ten and eleven, the big one pointed to six. It was already half past ten! Only thirty minutes separated him from a day in hell. Was there anything that was worth than boredom? Thinking about it, he decided that staying with the Dursleys was probably worse. If anything, both options were equally horrific.

Before going to his cupboard, Harry went to the bathroom again. Upon leaving said room, the door to Dudley’s room opened and his cousin looked at him, gesturing for him to stop.  **“Hey, do you really think anyone will come here?”** He rolled his eyes, exasperated at his cousin’s question. They had literally talked about this just a while ago.

**“As I told you earlier, I don’t know. And we shouldn’t talk about this in the corridor, what if they hear?”** Harry whispered the words and Dudley nodded, comprehension dawning on him. The stout boy waved his skinny cousin into his room, who followed and closed the door behind him.  **“What is it?”** Harry hadn’t planned to come here, he just wanted to stay inside his cupboard in solitude.

**“Imagine. Magic.”** Dudley got a dreamy expression on his face, obviously very keen on it to be true. Harry imagined, too. He imagined leaving the Dursleys to live at a school where they taught him magic. Away from his stupid aunt and uncle. Even though his evenly stupid cousin would be there, too. He didn’t dare to imagine the things he might learn at such a magical place.

**“I hope it’s true.”** Harry spoke quietly but there was still a passion in his voice that he hadn’t known was there.  **“I hope we will really go to this school and learn magic.”** His cousin nodded eagerly.

The two boys dreamt on for a moment before Harry decided to leave his cousin’s room. It would be suspicious if he was upstairs for too long. After all, his cousin and he had never gotten along, so he had no reason at all to spend his time with him. He left Dudley’s room and closed the door behind him as quietly as he could and started downstairs. However, he had even reached his cupboard yet when the doorbell rang. It had to be Piers and his mother. They were way early. Petunia came out of the living room and gestured to Harry to go elsewhere. He entered the kitchen, deliberately not closing the door to listen.

**“Ah, Mrs Polkiss, good day to you. Hello Piers. Dudley, come down!”** Her last words were louder so that her son could hear them. Harry heard the two women chat about this and that but they stopped promptly when his cousin came down. Everyone exchanged greetings, Dudley grabbed his bag and left the house.  **“Be back before it gets dark, Dudders!”** He wondered when he would be allowed back.

Harry heard the door close and the steps of his aunt coming towards him.  **“Grab whatever you need and get yourself over to Mrs Figg.”** Harry didn’t dare to say anything but left the kitchen when his aunt entered. He didn’t have anything to take with him either, the only thing he did before leaving the house was pulling on his shoes. When he left, he called for his aunt that he’d be back before it got dark, too but she didn’t bother to answer. Sighing, he closed the door behind him and started walking down Privet Drive. 


	6. Six

Harry had been standing in front of Mrs Figg’s house for a good ten minutes, thinking about just running away. Would anybody notice if he spent the day at the playground? Except Mrs Figg, of course. Probably his aunt would somehow gain knowledge of it and would ground him until eternity and beyond. Life at Privet Drive was miserable enough, he didn’t dare think about how it would be if he had been allowed to go out sometimes. A shudder went down his spine. He had a feeling of being watched but, looking around, saw nobody.

Sighing, he pressed the doorbell. Was he ready for a day full of chit-chat about cats? He would soon find out. He could hear footsteps inside which grew louder by the second. Just a moment later, Mrs Figg had opened the door in front of him, smiling her ever so gentle smile. Her grey hair seemed wet under the hairnet. Maybe she had just washed it. Harry decided that he didn’t want to know. 

**“Good day, Harry. Please, come in.”** Her voice was warm and somehow motherly. Or, maybe, grandmotherly. She had always been very kind to him and he did like her in a way somebody might like their parents or grandparents. Of course, he wouldn’t know because he had neither, and the Dursleys were definitely the last people on this planet he would ever feel connected to in any way.

**“Hi.”** He entered her house and pulled off his shoes. He knew that she didn’t like it when he walked around with his sneakers still on. She had even provided a pair of slippers for him which he wore whenever visiting her.  **“How are you?”**

Mrs Figg closed the door and gestured towards the couch. **“Very well, thank you. Would you like something to drink? Maybe some hot chocolate or apple juice?”** Harry nodded eagerly, not really caring what he got in the end. It was always better than water. While he sat down where on the sofa, she went to the kitchen.

The moment his buttocks touched the couch, a cat came to greet him. Or rather, to let him greet him. It was Mr Tibbles, very easily distinguished from the other because he was the only one spending the days inside. The other three often ran around outside and Harry had hardly ever seen them in person. He still remembered the first time he had met Mr Tibbles. Harry had been 4 or 5 years old, and even back then the cat had seemed old. He sometimes wondered that he still wasn’t dead. Did cats live for so long? He had no idea about the average life-span of felines.

Purring loudly, the cats came to rest on Harry’s legs. He stroked him slowly, not wanting him to suddenly change her mind and clawing at his hand. **“I still don’t understand why you seem to like me so much…”** Harry had said the words really quietly but Mrs Figg had somehow still heard them.

**“Why wouldn’t he like you? You are a real cat person and he can sense that.”** Mrs Figg came to sit next to him and put a cup of smoking hot chocolate on the table. It was odd, really. Harry had never thought of himself as a cat person. He didn’t hate them but he didn’t particularly like them either. He looked over at Mrs Figg who was smiling at him.

**“Thank you, Mrs Figg.”** Mr Tibbles was not amused when he was forced to get out of Harry’s seemingly comfortable lap as the boy leant forward to grab the cup. He was looking forward to the first sip. Although he always burnt his lips and tongue, he loved the taste and appreciated the rare treat very much.

**“So, Harry, what would you like to do? How about I show you the photos of my cats I have taken since you saw the album last? Snowy did the cutest of things recently.”** Harry almost choked on the sip of hot chocolate which he had been drinking while Mrs fig announced this. Even more photos of her cats. Why did this woman even know how to operate a camera? She had to be a thousand years old. Trying to hide the shock on his face, he thought hard what to answer. He took another big gulp to buy some more time. He couldn’t find a plausible reason not to look at the photos, except absolutely not wanting to, of course, but he didn’t want to hurt the old lady’s feelings and agreed. Just like he always did.

 

Seven dreadful hours later he was on his way back to the Dursleys. Although Mrs Figg had made him steak and kidney pie, which he had neither particularly like nor hated, most of the time she had spent showing him approximately a billion new pictures of her cats, most of them of Mr Tibbles. She had only let him go when the sun was almost down, so that he would definitely be home in time. He didn’t particularly hurry but didn’t want to anger his aunt and uncle any more than he already was by coming home and reminding them that he lived there, too. He was only a few yards away from Number 4 when his mind started wandering off to the letter, and the possibilities which it might lead to, again. One more day. Tomorrow he would finally find out if all of this was just a bad joke. After all, Dudley’s letter had said that someone would come to explain things further.

Upon reaching the front door, Harry sighed once before opening it. Like usually when somebody was home, it wasn’t locked.  **“It’s me, I’m back!”** He shouted the words and waited for a response which, of course, didn’t come. Neither his uncle nor his aunt cared. At least, not when he made it in time. They always did care when he was late, so they could punish him with a bucket full of chores.

He pulled off his shoes and went to enter his cupboard when he heard a car pull up to the driveway. It had to be Dudley returning home. He hurried to get out of the way before his aunt realised her precious golden son was coming home. He had hardly closed the door to his cupboard behind him when he heard the doorbell ring, upon which his aunt almost ripped the living room door out of its hinges and nearly ran down the hallway to open the front door.

Lying down on his bed, he heard the shrieking voice of Petunia bombard his cousin with a billion questions.  **“How was your day, Dudders? Did you have fun? Thank you for taking the kids today, next time it’s our turn again. How lovely to have you back home, Dudley! Are you hungry? Or did you eat already? I could make you something if you want, that’s not a problem at all!”** Harry burried his head underneath his pillow, pressing the sides of his head with both hands. He couldn’t bear it and had no idea how his cousin could. Thankfully, after a few minutes everything was over. Dudley had gone upstairs, telling his mother how they had already eaten at a restaurant, while Petunia returned to the living room, seemingly disappointed that her son didn’t need her to prepare dinner.

Harry himself was full, too. Mrs Figg had seen to that. As always, he was very sleepy now that his stomach was full of food. All he wanted to do was sleep. Before doing so, though, he took out the letter from under his mattress and looked at it longingly for a long while. When he had stared at the handwriting for a satisfying amount of time, he put it back where he had pulled it from and turned off the lights. He couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to sleep as fast as he could. The sooner he was asleep, the sooner tomorrow would be upon him, hopefully bringing a teacher of Hogwards, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with it.


	7. Seven

The night was suddenly over for Harry, when someone violently shook him. Groaning, he moved from one side to the other trying to stay asleep and it momentarily workedand the shaking stopped but as soon as he settled to continue sleeping, it began again.  **“Harry! Wake up!”** This had to be a nightmare. Upon opening his eyes, he saw the silhouette of his cousin’s wide face hovering in mid-air, just inches away from his own face. He jerked away and hit his head.

**“Ow! Dang it, Dudley, what are you doing here?!”** Harry rubbed the back of his head to ease the pain while his cousin retreated a few inches. Reaching for his light, he felt Dudley shift in front of him, grabbing for his arm.

**“Don’t turn it on. I don’t want mum and dad to know I talked to you.”** The bigger boy let him go and straightened up. He was so enormous that he almost filled the whole doorway. Harry could see his outlines in the almost complete darkness.

**“Gosh, what time is it?”** He rubbed his eyes and looked in the general direction of where Dudley’s face would be. He didn’t bother looking for his glasses, it was too dark to see properly anyway. It was a miracle the other boy hadn’t fallen down the stairs.

**“Around 3 o’clock. Listen, I couldn’t sleep and just remembered something. We planned to go to the movies tomorrow. Without you, obviously. But tomorrow is also the day this school person will come here, so you have to keep them busy if I’m not here. You have to!”** Harry looked at his cousin for a moment, not believing that he had woken him up because of such nonsense. He was mad, he was tired, he wanted to get his cousin out of his little space of privacy. Sighing, he sat up completely. Being so far below the other boy felt weird. Dudley was taller than him when both were standing up which Harry found to be a dreadful thing, so sitting down when he stood was even worse.

**“Are you serious? That’s why you wake me up in the middle of the night?”** His tone was  annoyed but he could understand why Dudley acted like this. If it had been him leaving home while someone from a wizarding school was going to visit, he didn’t know what he would’ve done. But, luckily, the Dursleys never took him anywhere. Normally, he would’ve been envious and a bit angry, even if he was already used to them treating him this way, but this time he wasn’t.

**“Please, Harry. I want to meet this person, too.”** His cousin sounded sad which made Harry exceptionally happy on the one hand but also made him pity Dudley a bit. He sighed before answering.

**“Don’t worry, Dudley. I will tell them to wait until you return. If anyone comes here anyway, that is.”** Although he hoped against hope, he thought it was very improbable that anyone would show up.

**“Swear it.”** He coudn’t see his cousin, yet he could hear how serious his facial expression would be. Dudley really wanted this whole business to be true, just as he did himself. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. He desperately wanted to continue his dream which he sure he had had. His eyes were so tired, almost hurting. He rubbed them again before answering.

**“I swear I will not let them leave before your return. Now go back to bed, I’m tired and I’m sure so are you.”** Harry could hear his cousin shift his weight on the carpet but other than that he didn’t move.  **“What are you waiting for?”** He had no idea what else there possibly was to talk about.

**“Nothing. Just figured we could talk about it some more. Can’t sleep anyway.”** Harry heard a something that sounded like Dudley scratching his head.

**“No. I’m tired. And we have talked about this before. We know nothing about all this and there really is no need repeating everything over and over. Good night.”** Upon saying the last sentence, he stood up and felt around for the door handle. His cousin obviously understood that he was not welcome here and turned to finally leave. Closing the door and lying back down, Harry felt like a twat treating anyone like this, even if it was just his idiot of a cousin.

 

The next morning had arrived suddenly for Harry. He was awoken by people talking in the hallway just next to where he slept. He couldn’t remember falling asleep again last night after Dudley had finally left him alone. But it didn’t matter. The night was gone, the new day was here. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up slowly. He felt for his glasses and tried to listen to the conversation which was still ongoing.

**“I really don’t want to go see the movie!”** It was Dudley’s voice saying this to somebody, loud and somehow screeching. Harry had thought that something like this might happen. Though he had given his cousin his word to keep the school person here until they came back, he thought it was just natural to at least try and stay home. He would’ve done the same.

**“What are you talking about, Dudders? We talked about this last week, you wanted to see this new film so badly. Why don’t you want to go anymore?”** This was Mrs Dursley answering her son. Her voice was always so soft when she spoke to him, she didn’t want him to be mad at her. That’s why he was so spoiled, she just never said ‘no’.

**“I just don’t want to see it anymore.”** Dudley was now speaking more quietly, almost sheepishly. Harry had found his glasses by now and was at this very moment pondering whether to leave his cupboard or not.

**“Don’t be stupid, son! We made a reservation days ago, so we won’t have to sit in the front rows. Put on your shoes, if we don’t leave now, our tickets will be gone!”** Harry strongly decided against leaving his private space now that he had also heard his uncle’s voice. He didn’t want to come across him when he was in a good mood, much less now.

**“Go ahead, Dudley. We might also get ice cream after the movie if you put on your sneakers now.”** Silently, Harry shook his head. His cousin wanted to stay home so desperately, and rightly so, they would never make him leave the house voluntarily. Scratching his forehead where his lightning scar was, he waited for the other boy to respond.

**“Ice cream?”** There was a short break.  **“How about pizza?”** Harry’s expression was blank. He couldn’t believe what he heard. Had Dudley already forgotten about the magic school? On the other hand, the other boy was always up for food, especially pizza. Harry vividly remembered that one time he had been allowed to eat one. It had been heaven on earth.

**“Oh, of course, Dudders! We’ll get pizza after the film and then ice cream, if it all fits in your little tummy.”** Petunia obviously said this with a smile on her face which made Harry feel disgusted. Harry made a face that looked like he had just had to witness childbirth or something equally disturbing.

**“Okay, fine. Let me just get my Gameboy.”** Before anyone could say anything, his cousin was off, running up the stairs, stomping so loudly Harry thought he might fall through his ceiling any moment. But then the noise was gone, or at least a lot more quiet, when Dudley reached the top floor and continued running to his room.

**“Vernon, why don’t you go and turn off the television while I wake** **_him_ ** **.”** The last word was undoubtedly targeted at him, so he very fast took off his glasses and lied back down, pulling the sheets over himself. He didn’t want his uncle and aunt to think that he spied on them, which they probably would. He heard heavy footsteps leaving the hallway and, almost at the same time, a sharp knock on the door.  **“You! Get up!”** Although his aunt hadn’t opened the door, he slowly sat up, stretched his arms and rubbed his eyes. Getting his glasses once more, he stood up and left his cupboard.

In front of it, waiting impatiently, his aunt was still standing with her arms crossed, one foot tapping one the ground repeatedly.  **“We are going to the movie theatre. You will stay at home. You won’t watch television, you won’t go into Dudley’s room and use any of his stuff. You won’t go to the playground. You will wait here for our return.”** She stopped talking for a brief moment, waiting for Harry to answer. When he didn’t, she continued as if he had.  **“There’s food in the fridge. Clean up after yourself. We will be back in a few hours.”** This time, she didn’t wait for an answer but instead turned around and walked away, maybe checking why Vernon needed so long to just turn of the telly.

Harry went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from one of the cupboards. As he opened the fridge to get the milk, his aunt and uncle forbade him to do a lot of things but drinking milk was not one of them, he could hear Petunia and Vernon talk in the living room. It was a rather dull noise and he couldn’t understand what was being said but he didn’t really care anyway. Just when he had put the milk back, closed the fridge, and taken the first delicious swig of milk, the kitchen door opened.

**“I just wanted to tell you to remember that you swore it.”** Dudley was standing in the doorway, wearing a shirt and a chequered slipover. Now more than ever, he looked just like a smaller version of his father. A shudder went up Harry’s spine. However, before he could answer, he saw his aunt and uncle come out of the living room and into the hallway behind his cousin. When the other boy noticed, he looked at him again very seriously before leaving the room. Harry stood there for a while, wondering if anyone would disturb his refreshing cup of milk once more or if he would be left alone in peace from now on.

His prayers were answered when he heard the front door being closed. Slowly, he walked in direction of the window. Her didn’t want to look eager to get rid of them, although, of course, he was, but he still wanted to check when the car would leave the driveway. His glass in hand, he stared out of the window, as low-key as possible. He saw Dudley clumsily climb into the car, hitting his head on the doorframe. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at him.

 

Three minutes and thirty-four seconds later, Harry had thoroughly kept track of the time, the Dursleys were finally leaving their property. As soon as Harry couldn’t see the car anymore, he started grinning, putting the glass to the side after emptying it. As happy as he hadn’t been in a long time, he ran upstairs and into the bathroom, not without taking a considerably clean set of clothes with him. He thought that a shower was probably exactly the right thing to wake him properly. He also didn’t want to start smelling by midday.

Wetting and shampooing his hair rigorously, he absolutely enjoyed getting clean. This was already the second chance within a few days, this week could hardly get any better. Except, of course, if there was really someone coming to the house. He thought about the prospect of going to a magic school and becoming a wizard again. It was too good to be true.

It was half past 10 when he got out of the shower. Harry remembered his aunt saying that there was food in the fridge and wondered what exactly would be there for him to eat. Opening the fridge again a few minutes later, he hadn’t really paid attention when getting the milk, disappointed him very much. It turned out that, by ‘food’, his aunt had meant cold cuts and cheese. At least there were a couple of eggs, too, so he decided to make himself scrambled eggs and some toast. A glass of orange juice would make his meal complete.

 

Half an hour later, Harry had finished his breakfast, including two glasses of juice and another glass of milk. The dishes were already clean and sorted into the different cupboards. He had already sat down in front of the television. Of course, his aunt had forbidden him to even think about turning it on but he didn’t care. Since he was all alone, he might as well use the opportunity. Nobody had to know. The only thing he had to remember was to put the remote back where he had taken it from.

There was some cartoon on Harry had never seen before. Unsurprisingly, of course, since he was never allowed to watch telly. His cousin probably knew everything that had ever been on; besides playing computer games and sitting in front of the television, there was nothing else he ever did in his free time. No wonder he was so immensely fat. The only exercise he ever got was bullying younger children at school together with his best friend. Harry despised Piers as much as he hated Dudley. He didn’t understand how anybody could willingly hang out with such a mean, idiotic person. On the other hand, both Piers and Dudley were in good company. Birds of a feather flock together.

 

Two hours passed without Harry moving an inch away from the couch. He thoroughly enjoyed being lazy for once. At a very young age he had learnt to clean up after himself immediately after using something. Whenever he left something unattended, like his plate and cutlery after eating, his aunt would get very mad at him. Once she had had enough; she had actually kept him in the cupboard for a week, only giving him water and bread and letting him out only for him to go to the toilet. One time during this week he had called for her to let him out so that he could empty his bladder but she had ignored him for almost half an hour, resulting in him wetting himself. That had been years ago, though, Harry being four or five. Ever since that occasion, he always cleaned up after himself.

When he finally did get up to get a glass of orange juice another hour later, he noticed the time and panicked for a second. Trying to remember when the Dursleys had left, he decided that they probably wouldn’t be back within the next few minutes. However, he had gotten bored watching telly by now and decided to go to Dudley’s room for a short visit. He knew if his cousin ever found out that he had been in there, he’d probably beat him up badly. So he had to make sure that the other boy wouldn’t find out.

Whenever Harry entered Dudley’s room, he felt like ending up in a completely different dimension. One where boys were loved by their parents, where it didn’t matter what you did, they would always be by your side. Harry felt a sinking feeling in his chest. If only his parents hadn’t died, he might have known how it felt to be loved. Looking around, he once again wondered how many toys there were exactly and how Dudley would ever play with all of them. Most of them his cousin had wanted so bad, then, upon finally getting them for his birthday or christmas, playing with them once and then never touching them again. Many were broken. Harry couldn’t comprehend how the other boy could treat all of these brilliant gifts from his parents this way. Didn’t he appreciate what they did for him at all? On the other hand, whenever something broke, they would replace it almost immediately. The Dursley boy had never learnt the value of things. And he probably never would.

The room’s floor was full of toys, Harry had to tread carefully to not step on Legos or something similarly painful. He had covered half the room when he crouched down. There was a remote-controlled monster truck. It was green with blue stripes on the sides. When grabbing it and turning it around, he saw that one wheel was lopsided, another was missing completely. Sighing, he put it back down and looked around. Now that nobody was home he just had to use this opportunity to play with some of Dudley’s stuff. However, before he could reach the next item chosen for his entertainment, the doorbell rang.

Immediately, Harry stopped moving. He stared at Dudley’s room’s door which he had left open wide, as if expecting his uncle to come in at any second. The second ring woke him from his rigour. As fast as he could, he stepped over all the stuff lying around, starting to run as soon as he reached the hallway. He left the door to Dudley’s room wide open and sprinted down the stairs. Reaching the front door, he stopped dead and hesitated for a second when suddenly somebody outside spoke up. 

**“Mr Potter, would you be kind enough to open the door now, I don’t have all day.”**


	8. Eight

Without thinking, Harry opened the door for whoever was standing on the other side. The person on the other side looked down at him, a hardened expression on their face.

**“Thank you for finally letting me in. And just as I thought I would have to melt in this heat.”** Stepping aside, he just stared at the weirdly dressed teacher entering the house.  **“Are you going to stand around there all day? Why don’t you introduce me to your guardians? And cousin, of course. After all, he’s the reason I’m here.”** At those words Harry’s heart sank. 

**“You are here for my cousin?”** He sounded just like he felt, disappointed and sad. If the teacher was only here for Dudley and Hogwarts was indeed a real place, why had he gotten a letter, too? Was it all just a mistake? Was he not going to go to this place where they taught actual magic?

**“Well, of course! Even though his parents already know of our world, we thought it best to send someone. Don’t forget that he’s muggle-born; this might be a bit much for him.”** Harry stared. His aunt and uncle knew that magic existed? Why had they never mentioned anything like that? And what in the name of sanity was a muggle?

**“I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”** His honest tone made the stranger look at him skeptically.

**“What do you mean, you don’t understand? You are a wizard and you will be going to Hogwarts, the best school of witchcraft and wizardry there is. Just like your parents did. Your cousin Dudley will also attend the school but his parents are muggles which is the reason why this visit is mandatory.”** If possible, Harry’s eyes widened even more. His mouth hang open and he absolutely didn’t know what to say.

**“My parents went to Hogwarts, too?”** His head started hurting, it was all too much for him to digest just now. One of his hands automatically went up to his forehead to where his scar was.

**“Wait, you didn’t know? Did your guardians not tell you?”** He barely managed to shake his head. An angry expression briefly crossed the teachers face but Harry couldn’t see it. He was too occupied trying to understand what they just told him.  **“Let’s sit down somewhere, maybe over a tea? I will tell you everything necessary to know.”** At those words the boy looked up at the teacher and nodded. He opened the door to the kitchen and gestured to them to follow him.

Watching them sitting down on the table, he went over to the kettle and filled it with water before putting it back on the stove. Out of the cupboard, he got two cups.  **“If you don’t mind me asking, who are you? I mean, you are obviously from Hogwarts but what can I call you? You know my name.”** He had gathered all his courage to ask this question; the teacher was quite intimidating.

**“Of course, how rude of me not to introduce myself. I simply expected that you knew. You may call me Professor McGonagall.”** The name did ring a bell.  **“I am Deputy Headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration.”** Harry now remembered that it had been her name on the letter. She was the one who had signed it. 

In the background the kettle started whistling, so Harry took it and carefully filled the cups to a reasonable amount. After carrying both cups over to the table, he sat down opposite the professor.  **“Please, I have no idea of any of this. Nobody ever told me anything. When I got the letter, I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a joke. Also, my aunt and uncle took Dudley’s letter away from him, he didn’t read the first one. My aunt said she had recognised the handwriting but I still didn’t dare to believe any of this was true.”** Now that they were both sitting at the table, everything was sputtering out of him at once. The teacher, however, raised a hand to silence him and then gave him a stern look.

**“First of all, calm down. I know this must be exciting for you. Your parents went to Hogwarts, and they met there, too. Unfortunately, they died. I’m sorry for that. And because the Dursleys are your last living relatives, you were brought here. I’m sorry for that, too. Actually, the day you were given into their care, I had been watching them. Nasty people. Anyway, you will now go to Hogwarts and learn everything about magic there is to learn. So will your cousin, who is muggle-born. This means that both his parents are muggles, or non-magic people. Your mother was muggle-born, too, by the way.”** She explained everything patiently while Harry stared at her, longingly wanting to finally go to this place. He had listened to every single of her words but still could hardly understand. The thought most present in his mind was why they had brought him here even though the professor had known that the Durleys were horrible people.

**“So, how do I get there, then?”** He was curious as to how they wanted to get so many children to one place at once. Without anyone noticing, as well. He supposed that the wizarding world was a secret, otherwise he’d probably heard of it before.

**“There’s a train. Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything later when your cousin and his parents are here, too. Where are they, anyway?”** Professor McGonagall took a swift look around, as though expecting to find them standing around somewhere.

**“They went out for a movie and something to eat. But they should be back soon, I think.”** Harry paused for a second.  **“Would you like something to eat? I think we have toast and I could prepare some eggs.”** The woman smiled at him for a second before answering.  **“That would actually be very nice.”**

Harry nodded briefly and got up. He would do his best to try and impress this teacher. He had no idea what kind of subject she taught at Hogwarts. She had told him but he had, of course, understood nothing but gibberish. This professor looked like a stern person and he would gather as many brownie points as possible. Putting the eggs into the pan, he turned around briefly and saw the teacher observing what he was doing. Somehow, although doing this on a daily basis, he felt like he was doing everything wrong.

**“That looks delicious!”** He winced at the professor’s sudden appearance right next to him. He had been so concentrated on not failing that he hadn’t noticed her walking over.  **“It does look like you’re a professional when it comes to preparing eggs.”** Harry stared at her for a brief moment while absent-mindedly turning around the food with his spatula.

**“I prepare breakfast for the family almost every day.”** It had been nice of the teacher to tall him that she thought he did a good job. He never got flattery from the Dursleys, after all. Her words had definitely boosted his confidence.  **“It’s not much, though. Ialready had two eggs a few hours ago.”** He got the plate he had preparingly placed next to him on the counter and filled it with scrambled eggs. The plate was hot and he hurried carrying it to the table. He got salt and pepper from a cupboard, as well as a fork. Placing it in front of the professor, who had already sat down again, he smiled and sat down opposite of her again.

**“It doesn’t really matter that it’s not much.”** She made a swift movement and pulled something out of her robes that looked like a stick with a weirdly shaped orb at one end. Moving it through the air elegantly, she stopped the movement and whispered something Harry couldn’t understand. The effect, however, was imminent. The eggs on the plate started to multiply until there was a mountain of food on the plate.  **“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”** Harry stared at the plate, unable to say anything.

Another wave of the stick and another plate and fork flew out of the cupboards and landed on the table right in front of him.  **“Wow…”** He whispered the one word, not knowing what else to say. Looking up at the professor’s face, he couldn’t help but notice a tiny smug smile which she didn’t care to hide. **“How did you do that?!”** She made half of the eggs fly over to his plate with another wave of her stick.

**“You will learn how to do that in due time.”** She put it away in her robes again and started eating. After chewing and swallowing some, she added a bit extra salt and pepper.  **“These eggs are good! I just prefer them with a little more, that’s all.”** Gesturing to him to start eating as well, she continued bite after bite until only a rest was left on her plate.

When Harry was just eating the last of his food, he heard something outside. Turning to the window, he was just in time to see the Dursley’s turning into the driveway. He panicked. Hurriedly, he got up, still chewing, and went to clean his dishes as fast as he could. The teacher was looking at him, her eyebrows raised. He turned around to check if she was done eating so he could clean hers, too.  **“Sorry, aunt Petunia doesn’t like it when I leave dirty dishes behind.”** She narrowed her eyes for a second as he walked towards her, obviously wanting to get rid of her plate and fork, but she stopped him. Taking out her wand once more, she swung it and made the plate and cutlery levitate towards the sink and start cleaning itself before flying back into the cupboard it had come from.

The doors of the cupboard were hardly closed when the shrill voice of Mrs Dursley could be heard outside in the hallway. She was bickering with her husband to leave her son alone. Apparently, he had been wrecking her nerves with non-stop saying how much he wanted to go home again.  **“Stop complaining or we will never go to the movies or the pizza place again!”** His voice was harsh; he seemed to be more than just a bit annoyed.

**“Leave him be, Vernon. Maybe he doesn’t feel well.”** As always, his mother would defend Harry’s cousin. He could really do whatever he wanted without there ever being consequences. 

Harry sat down at the kitchen table again, this time next to the professor. He’d much rather sit next to her than anyone else and he knew that a conversation would be happening soon. His aunt would probably enter the kitchen any second now.  **“I’ve been looking forward to this for the past 11 years…”** The professor’s words were hardly audible but Harry had understood them nonetheless. He looked over to her as the kitchen door opened.

**“What’s going on here? Who are you?!”** The tone of Mrs Dursley’s words told everyone that she wasn’t pleased to see the stranger in her kitchen. Her eyes fixed on Harry, narrowing while her husband and son entered the kitchen behind her.  **“How dare you let someone into our house!”** Her nostrils were flaring and Harry saw the vein on his uncle’s neck swell so much he could swear it was probably visible to Mexico. Looking over to his cousin, however, he saw nothing but surprise and delight written all over his face.

Next to him, the professor stood up.  **“How very nice of you to greet me. My name is Professor McGonagall. I teach at Hogwarts, the best school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I am here to talk to you about your son attending it.”** Harry couldn’t help but grin at her words. He didn’t think anyone had ever dared to talk to the Dursleys like that but he thought they absolutely deserved to be treated that way. His aunt and uncle both were stunned by her actually talking to them; Dudley, however, stepped forward.

**“I will learn how to do magic?”** His voice was full of hope, his eyes big and fixed at the teacher.

**“No, you bloody well won’t!”** It was Vernon who had now seized control of the conversation.  **“We didn’t hide this whole thing from the ruddy boy just to let you go to this mental place! You will not mix with these… these madmen!”** Dudley wasn’t looking happy now. However, the person who looked least happy and, somehow, even angrier than Harry’s uncle, was the school teacher.

**“Excuse you! Just because you are so small-minded that you don’t even want to understand anything that’s different than you, doesn’t mean you can run around and verbally harrass a whole category of people! Do you always do that? Do you hate black people, too? Are you going to be so insular that you won’t give your son this most unique of chances?”** The professor’s voice was adamant. Harry had known her for maybe half an hour but he already felt the greatest respect for her. She averted her eyes from Vernon and looked at Dudley instead.  **“Now, you must be Dudley.”** Harry was surprised to hear the tone of her voice change so rapidly. **“Would you like to come to Hogwarts and learn how to do magic?”** She didn’t have to ask. Who wouldn’t want to learn how to do magic?

**“Yes, of course!”** Dudley took another step forward, not caring about his father’s angry expression. Petunia let out a moan while Vernon was already opening his mouth to say something again.

**“Don’t bother telling your son off, Mr Dursley. It’s his decision. Come and sit down so I can explain everything.”** Without waiting for an answer, she sat back down and waited for them to join.


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! This chapter is slightly shorter than the last one. I hope you still like it, though! As always, reviews are highly appreciated, especially those which will help me improve. :)

Reluctantly, both Vernon and Petunia joined them at the table after Dudley had hurried to sit down on the front end. Harry’s aunt was now sitting opposite him while his uncle was across from the professor.

**“Now that we’re all sitting and ready to talk, I would greatly appreciate it if you would not interrupt me. Any questions you might have, I will answer afterwards.”** She gave the Dursleys a stern look and Vernon was already opening his mouth again but, changing his mind, closed it again.  **“So, I originally came here for young Mr Dursley but Mr Potter told me that he had never before heard of Hogwarts and thought the letter was a joke! It’s otrageous that you concealed his true identity from him! However, seeing how you reacted when I said that your son would attend the school, I shouldn’t have been surprised. I observed you the day before Mr Potter was brought here, you know. It didn’t even take me ten minutes to realise that you are, indeed, the worst sort of muggle there is!”** Vernon’s face redenned more and more with every word the professor said but she didn’t seem to mind. She just kept talking and Harry was having the time of his life. Finally, someone was putting them in their rightful place. **“I have never had the misfortune to meet anyone who was this narrow-minded, this racist, this afraid of anything you don’t know or can’t control.”** Petunia just sat there, staring at the teacher with a grim face while her husband looked like he was going to explode. Professor McGonagall paused for a brief moment, just enough for her to take a breath.

**“However, just because you are so petty, doesn’t mean your son has to be, too. He got a letter from Hogwarts which means that he is a muggle-born wizard. I assume that you know what muggles are. Your nephew is, of course, also a wizard. They will both start attending the school on 1 September. Before then, we will send someone to help with their supply shopping in Diagon Alley.”** She now looked from Dudley to Harry and back again.  **“On 1 September, you will have to be at King’s Cross station where the Hogwarts express will depart at exactly 11am from platform 9 ¾.”** Harry half-heartedly opened his mouth, his eyebrows raised. As far as he knew, there was no such platform anywhere. The professor raised her hand, however, and silenced him before he had started talking. **“To get to the correct platform, you simply have to run at a wall between platforms 9 and 10. There will be plenty of other wizards. Just observe what the peculiar looking people are doing.”** Looking at the two boys, she amusedly noticed both of them staring at her in the same fashion, eyes wide and mouths ajar.

**“Dudley will not go to this school. I forbid it. And neither will Harry.”** Both boys turned their heads to Mr Dursley at his remark. Harry, as always, didn’t say anything to this because he never did whenever one of the Dursleys made his life miserable. Dudley, however, was furious. His round face became as red as Vernon’s had earlier and he even had a vein popping out where his father had one, too. These two definitely would never be able to deny that they were related.

**“What do you mean, I won’t go?! Of course I will go! I want nothing more than to learn how to do magic!”** Dudley practically screamed the words at his father. The professor watched him closely, wishing that he wouldn’t end up in her house. Although it would hardly matter. She would teach him any way.  **“You can’t expect me to stay here now that I know that I really am a wizard!”** The lights in the kitchen started flickering slightly. That was something the teacher hadn’t anticipated.

**“That’s quite enough, Mr Dursley.”** Although her voice was calm and quiet, it also possessed the kind of authority that made Dudley shut up and look at her expectantly.  **“Please, sit.”** He instantly did as she had asked and sat back down, his hand on the table’s edge as if to await further instructions. But Professor McGonagall turned her attention to his father before continuing to speak.  **“This is exactly the kind of behaviour I was expecting.”** She paused for a second to make sure that she had all of their attention.  **“Did you notice the lights flicker just now? A wizard or witch who is not allowed to practice magic and is oppressing it instead, can become unpredictable and dangerous. Very dangerous, indeed. I bet you don’t want neither your son nor your nephew to accidently blow up the house?”** She pronounced every word carefully to ensure that he perfectly understood what she was trying to tell them. The threat of having his house blown up seemed to bring Vernon to his senses.

**“You’re probably just saying that to make us give our son to you people.”** Vernon was desperate. He definitely didn’t want neither of the boys to go to the school but he didn’t want to deal with unwanted magic either. He remembered his nephew making things disappear and reappear in the most inconvenient ways.  **“But if what you say is indeed true, maybe it would be better for both of them to go.”** Harry couldn’t believe that this was it. Hadn’t it been too easy?  **“When will this person come and take them shopping?”** Expectantly, everyone’s eyes were on the teacher.

**“We will send another letter containing the details of the shopping trip.”** She looked at the boys and then back at their guardians.  **“If you don’t have any questions left, I will leave you now. There are more muggle-borns awaiting a visit from me today.”** She got up and didn’t really leave anyone the chance to ask any questions. Harry stood up, too because he thought it was the most polite thing to do, although he didn’t know why. His aunt and uncle got up as well, followed by their son.

**“I’ll show you to the door.”** Petunia sounded a bit too eager to finally get rid of the intruder. The professor, of course, noticed her tone and raised here eyebrows. Harry’s aunt had stepped into the corridor already, leaving the door open for the other woman to follow. Looking at the two boys one last time, the latter followed. Shortly before reaching the door, however, she stopped abruptly. 

**“One more thing. The existence of magic is a well-kept secret. Sharing it with the muggle-world is a crime under wizarding law. You won’t tell anyone about the fact that you’ll be going to a wizarding school or anything I just told you, is that understood?”** Both Harry and Dudley hurried to nod. Harry wouldn’t tell anyone. Mainly because there was nobody to tell it to but even if he did, who would believe him anyway? Dudley, on the other hand had a few friends and Harry was sure he’d be eager to tell at least Piers. **“Good. If you do tell, you can trust that we will know. And then there will be consequences.”** Both boys looked a bit terrified and the professor seemed to be satisfied that they wouldn’t share the secret.  **“Well then, goodbye. I will see you on September 1st.”** She nodded courtly and left the kitchen after Harry and Dudley had said their goodbyes.

Upon entering the corridor, she found Mrs Dursley standing there with her arms crossed and one of her feet tapping the ground. She was impatiently waiting for the professor to finally leave them. If she had seemed eager to get her out of the house earlier, it was nothing to how she was now behaving. The professor hardly cared. She was equally glad to finally get out of the house and away from those awful people. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Potter boy again.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Mrs Dursley was furiously cleaning the kitchen where the professor had sat, as if it was contaminated in some way. Mr Dursley was watching telly, every now and then having an outburst of rage, talking loudly to himself how this woman had come to their home without any kind of invitation. Harry, who had been roughly criticised not to let strangers into the house ever again, was now upstairs in the bathroom, looking into the mirror. He couldn’t believe all of this was actually happening. He would go to Hogwarts, the best school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, according to the professor. And he would learn all the great things his parents had learned before him. Thinking about his parents, he got sad again. He wondered why his parents hadn’t saved themselves by doing magic. Or maybe it had just gone down to fast for them to react. He didn’t know much about the accident, just that they crashed their car.

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He hesitated for a second before opening the door. On the other side, his cousin was standing. Harry was uncertain what to do. Even if Dudley had conveniently forgotten to be mean to him over the last few days, most of the time there was anguish involved whenever they met somewhere.  **“Can we talk?”** Maybe Harry was wrong and the other boy would at least stop bullying him from now on. At least they had something in common now.

**“Sure.”** Dudley gestured for Harry to follow him to his room, which he did. Closing the door behind him, Harry looked at his cousin and waited for him to say something. Before the latter could say anything, however, he started speaking.  **“I can’t believe this actually happened.”**


	10. Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, thank you so much for your feedback! I cannot say how much it means to me.
> 
> Now, that I've published the last chapter, I suddenly remembered some things which I maybe should have included. I didn't exactly write down how McGonagall left. There was a cut to fifteen minutes later which means that she could have said a lot of things to Petunia before leaving. I hereby declare a few things canon.
> 
> Firstly, McGonagall raged a bit more about how the Dursleys could let Harry sleep in a cupboard and that she would come and fuck shit up if the next letter still would have to be addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. Obviously, she didn't literally say "fuck shit up" but I'll leave the conversation to your imagination.
> 
> And secondly, a point that was brought up in a review (thank you for that), Minerva would probably have offered Petunia her condolences because she's just a very polite person, even if Lily at this point already had been dead for 10 years. So let's say she did offer her condolences and Petunia answered something along the lines of "Served her right" or something like that and pretended like she didn't care.
> 
> Lastly, this has nothing to do with the plot but with the format of the story. Someone wrote that they find bold dialogue somewhat distracting, so I've changed it and the dialogues in this chapter are not bold. I would like to know your opinion if you prefer it with bold or wihtout bold formatting. The majority wins, I guess. Thanks for your attention, now have fun and don't forget to review! ;)

 

Dudley sat down on the ground and Harry decided to do the same, sitting down opposite his cousin. They were now in the first boy's bedroom in which there was actually space to walk around and sit down. In his other room, the one that was filled to the brim with toys, you could hardly even see the floor. "You have to tell me everything!" Dudley's expression was curious but Harry didn't know what he meant and just looked at him squinting. When the other boy noticed that he obviously had no idea what he was talking about, he spoke again. "What did you talk about when you were alone?"

"Oh." Of course, he had been alone with the professor for a while before the three Dursleys had arrived. "Not much, really. She told me that my parents went to Hogwarts, too. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never mentioned it which makes me kind of mad." At this remark, he looked at his cousin whose expression didn't change one bit. Maybe he could understand that he was mad at them or maybe he just ignored what he had just heard. "She said she was only coming here because of you. Because you are muggle-born. She just assumed that I already knew everything that was going to happen. So, if you hadn't gotten a letter, she wouldn't have come here in the first place…" Harry stopped talking at his own words, imagining how helpless he would have felt without the teacher's visit.

Dudley shifted slightly and urged him to go on. "Well, when I said I had no idea what she was talking about, she started explaining. But she just told me what she told us all." He tried to remember desparately what had happened during the short period of time during which they both had been alone. And then he suddenly remembered how she had multiplied the eggs. "Oh! Yes! The coolest thing happened!" Dudley leaned forwards, eager to know more. "I made us some tea and eggs but there weren't many eggs left, so she took out her wand and swung it through the air a bit. And then the eggs started to multiply until there was enough for the two of us!" Mouth already open, Dudley's eyes widened; it looked like they might pop out of his had any moment.

"Get out!" The other boy had subconsciously come closer to Harry, who was also leaning forward. He had never felt so connected with his idiot cousin. Maybe their relationship would change somehow. Harry didn't dare to hope for his cousin's change for the better. At least he wouldn't change for the worse since that was hardy possible.

"It was the best thing I've ever seen!" He nodded furiously, as if to try and get his cousin to believe him. "And she said we will be able to do that one day, too!" One of his hands scratched the back of his head, slightly ruffling through his hair. "I am so excited for this!" Harry got up abruptly and started toward the door. "I can't just sit here. I'll ask if I can go outside, I hope they'll let me go. Talk to you later." Before Dudley could say anything at all, he was out the door.

 

At the same time, Mrs Dursley entered the living room where her husband was waiting for her. She had been scrubbing the kitchen table and chair where this insolent woman had dared to take a seat for the past twnty minutes. Only now, that she was satisfied the spots were remarkably clean, did she go to talk to her husband.

When she entered, Vernon didn't look away from the telly. Some sports programme was on, Petunia didn't know and didn't care what exactly it was he was watching. "Vernon?" He grunted in response, still not turning to her. "We should give Harry Dudley's second room." At first, there was no reaction from her husband. After a few seconds, however, he seemed to comprehend and turned towards her, his face showing signs of confused rage.

"And why would we do that?! This ungrateful brat was put down on our doorstep and ever since then we have shared everything with him! Why in the name of sanity should we take Dudley's room from him and give it to this… this…" While he struggled to find an appropriate word to use for describing his nephew, Petunia sat down on the couch next to her husband and put a hand on his leg. He looked at his wife, uncertain what she was trying to do.

"Oh, Vernon. I don't like it either but we have to face the fact that he is growing up. Soon, he will be too tall to sleep under the stairs." She stroked his leg affectionately. He wasn't sure how to tell him what this professor person had said to her. "Dudley doesn't really use his other room, anyway. All the broken toys can go to the bin and the rest we can put in boxes. He won't miss them, he hardly plays with any of it." She smiled at him gently, not wanting him to get angrier than he already was. His facial expression noticeably softened. "We'll store the things he rarely uses in the attic. He won't like it at first but it is necessary. Harry won't stay little forever." She shifted slightly, enabling herself to lean into him a tad. "Also, the professor said she would make our life hell if the next letter for him has to be addressed to the cupboard under the stairs again." The last sentence, Petunia spoke too fast and too quiet for anyone to properly understand, yet Vernon somehow managed.

"This rotten woman! How dare she threaten us?! The boy is under our care and we do with him as we see fit!" Petunia hardly dared to look at her husband but when she did, his face was as red as a brick wall. His eyes were bulging, she thought that the capillaries might burst at any second. His vein was prominent, too. "We will not give him our son's room because she says so! What will she do against it? Nothing! It's all idle talk!" Vernon was breathing heavily, spit flying when he spoke. Petunia raised her hand shushing him. No matter how much she loved him, he still scared her sometimes when he acted like this, even if his rage wasn't directed at her.

"Believe me, darling, I know what these people can do. We do definitely not want to mess with them. Let's just give the stupid boy Dudley's second room. He won't be using it for long, anyway. Term starts in a month." This seemed to calm him a bit. "Don't be mad." She got up and took his hand in hers, wanting him to follow. "Let's get this over with. I think they're both upstairs. Better tell them now. The sooner, the better. Maybe Dudders won't be sulking for so long." She smiled again, trying to calm Vernon down further.

"Fine." He got up suddenly which almost cost Petunia her balance. One hand still in hers she opened the door to the living room. "You go first." Sometimes it almost seemed like he could read her mind. She had been about to ask if he wanted to go upstairs first but she would do so, too. And gladly.

Letting go of her husband's hand, they both walked towards the staircase when they heard a door close upstairs, followed by steps. Petunia had climbed two steps when she saw the face of her nephew who arrived at the top of the stairs, apparently wanting to go downstairs. "Oh, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, I was wondering if you'd let me go outside for a while. Petunia raised a hand to silence him while climbing the staircase. Her husband was close behind her.

"No. You will not go outside, you will go to Dudley's room. We need to talk."


	11. Eleven

When Harry entered his cousin’s room again, the other boy had just sat down at his computer and was about to turn it on but upon hearing him come in, he turned around expectantly. “What is it?” Now that the conversation about everything that had happened was over, he didn’t sound eager to see his cousin back in his room again. Harry, however, just shrugged while his aunt and uncle followed him inside. “What are you doing here? I wanted to play!” Harry still didn’t understand how his aunt and uncle could let him talk to them like that.

“Sit down, both of you. We need to talk.” Exchanging an uncertain look, both boys sat on the edge of Dudley’s bed. Waiting for his aunt to continue talking, Harry scratched the back of his head. “We have come to an important decision.” She paused, looking over to her husband. “Dudley, we will give your other room to Harry.” Mrs Dursley had hardly finished speaking when her son jumped up and started raging.

“No! It’s my room! I need it!” Harry just sat there, baffled at his aunt’s words. He wondered what he had done to deserve a real room, even if it was a small one. Maybe his aunt and uncle would allow him to have a real bed. He decided that he liked the idea very much and wasn’t really listening to his cousin positively screaming at his parents while punching the air.

“Now, now! I know you are used to having two rooms but you don’t need it. You don’t really play with any of the toys in there anyway. We will put them into boxes and store them in the attic.” Petunia was desperately trying to talk loud enough for her son to hear but at the same time forced her voice to remain calm and gentle. If he had been in her place, he simply would have screamed back at Dudley.

“Don’t bother, son. We have a already decided. He will get the smaller room to sleep in, simply because he’s growing out of the room we gave him when he arrived.” Mr Durley spoke with all the authority he could muster, resulting in his son actually shutting up and listening but as soon as he had finished, Dudley let himself fall down to the ground, curled up in a ball and forced out tears. Harry rolled his eyes at this obvious attempt of manipulation. His uncle sighed exasperatedly. “Dudley, stop acting like a little child. Get up.” Mr Dursley made an attempt to drag his child to his feed but stopped after realising that his son was too heavy. Instead, he chose to ignore him and turned to Harry. “Be grateful for what we are doing for you. Come and help packing Dudley’s stuff.” He didn’t wait for an answer but turned on his heels and left his screaming, crying son on the floor. Mrs Dursley had watched the scene with a look on her face which Harry couldn’t quite describe. However, he knew that she had probably tried very hard not to intervene. When it came to her son, she was a very fierce woman. Nobody was allowed to talk to him like that, not even his own father.

“I am very grateful, thank you!” Harry had jumped up from Dudley’s bed now, hurrying after his uncle. He didn’t understand why this was happening; why the Dursley’s had, out of the blue, decided that he should get his own room. Yes, he had been growing a bit lately but it wasn’t more uncomfortable now than it had ever been in his cupboard. Anyway, this was a chance he naturally wouldn’t complain about. When Harry left the room, his cousin was still on the ground whining and he swore he could hear his aunt console him. Whenever something like this happened, he missed his parents very much and wondered what it would be like to have someone who actually cared about him. He still didn’t know what a hug felt like.

 

Almost three hours later, Mr Dursley was just putting the last box on the attic’s floor. Harry was waiting at the top of the stairs, looking around at all the boxes. A few broken things they had thrown away but there were still so much stuff in here; it was almost uncanny. His uncle was gesturing for him to go downstairs, so he turned around and went down the stairs, the man closely behind him. The only thing left to do now was getting his old mattress out of the cupboard and into his new room. Of course, he would have to sleep on the ground but he had done so all of his life and was used to sleeping on hard undergrounds. His mattress wasn’t very thick and didn’t really help.

“Alright, boy. Go downstairs and start carrying your stuff up here. Your aunt and I will go and get a wardrobe and a bed.” Harry stared at his uncle in disbelief. He had never gotten anything in his life. Only if it was absolutely necessary. “When you’re done, help Dudley getting his clothes out of his closet. You will get his. And his bed, too. We will carry both to your room when Petunia and I are back.” Without saying another word or acknowledging Harry’s existence any further, Vernon turned and went into the bathroom, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Harry was left alone standing in the hallway, right in front of his cousin’s room. He decided that getting on with it was probably best. Even if it meant that Dudley would get a new bed and cupboard, he could hardly imagine that the other boy would be delighted to see him. But his uncle had told him to help with getting the clothes out of his new closet and that was exactly was he was planning on doing.

He knocked on Dudley’s door, more out of habit than politeness. When nobody answered, he knocked again. “What is it?!” Harry opened the door a bit and peeked in. Dudley was playing a game on his computer when he entered but as soon as the other boy realised that it was him, he jumped up from his chair and stomped towards him angrily. “How dare you! How dare you take my room from me!” Dudley had almost reached him; he couldn’t help but take a step back.

Putting his hands in the air defensively, he took another step back until he met the wall and couldn’t go any further. “How could it be my fault?” His cousin had reached him now and had grabbed him by the collar. “Let me go, Dudley! Do you actually think I asked for this?! They never would have given the room to me if I had asked!”

His cousin’s face was full of rage; puffy and red, just like his father’s whenever he was mad. The only difference between the two was the little vein that was always so prominent on Vernon’s neck. “Why would mom and dad give you the room like this? Without you asking? It doesn’t make sense!” He was right and Harry knew it. His aunt and uncle had no reason whatsoever to give him his cousin’s second room. He shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when no words came out. Dudley let him go.

“I don’t know! I swear I didn’t ask them to do this.” Even if the other boy believed him, he didn’t seem to care very much. One of Dudley’s hands let go of Harry’s shirt. There was no mistaking his cousin’s actions. His right hand was curled into a fist; he would surely hit him. Harry had hardly finished the dreadfull thought when Dudley got ready to punch him in the face. A pity, considering that he had just repaired his glasses with a lot of tape. He would have to do that again and it would take ages; he simpley couldn’t see what he was doing.

As Dudley’s fist started towards his face, Harry closed his eyes waiting for the pain that would never come. At the last moment, Vernon had left the bathroom and saw what they were doing. His uncle didn’t really care that the other boy frequently hit him as long as he didn’t do it in front of his father’s eyes. “Dudley!” One word was enough to make his fist stop inches away from Harry’s face. “Go and clear out your wardrobe. Both of you! Your aunt and I will be back in an hour. You’ll better be done by the time we return!”

Harry watched his uncle walk down the hallway, passing them without another word. Dudley had let go but glared at him nonetheless.  When Vernon disappeared down the stairs, Harry broke the silence. “Let’s go.” He went passed his cousin into the room; Dudley followed after a moment, hissing swear words under his breath.


	12. Twelve

The sun was shining through Harry’s window, waking him up. He looked for his glasses on the bedside table and sat up. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. It had been like this every morning for the past week. He was always confused when waking up in his new room, never certain if everything had just been a dream. Yet here he was, lying in his cousin’s old bed which now belonged to him. He had a bed and a cupboard. And a room. He rubbed his eyes under his glasses before finally getting up. A look at his little alarm clock revealed the time. 8.27am. Had he still lived under the stairs, his aunt would have probably already woken him up but since he slept upstairs, she didn’t bother to make sure he was up. When buying a new bed and cupboard for his cousin, they had also brought a cheap-looking clock for him which he had happily put on his bedside table. The Dursleys had given him so little in his short lifetime that he was truly grateful whenever it happened, even if it was something as little as an alarm clock.

When passing Dudley’s room on his way to the bathroom, he could hear his cousin quietly snore in his sleep. He could hear it in his room, too. Sometimes it would keep him from falling asleep because he liked his nights quiet, yet he was sure that he would soon become used to the new sounds. Two days ago a couple of birds had woken him up in the middle of the night and forced him to get up and close his window. As a consequence, it had been as hot as a sauna in his room when he had woken up that morning. He certainly wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Harry entered the bathroom and put his glasses next to the sink. He could hardly see anything now but he didn’t need to see to find the faucet and wash his face. After thoroughly cleaning his face and neck, he put the glasses back on, now feeling fully awake. He hurried to brush his teeth and ruffle his hair to make him look at least slightly more presentable. Even though his uncle was at work at the moment, his aunt also wasn’t pleased whenever his hair looked like the nest of a large bird. Looking in the mirror to check his appearance one last time, he frowned. His glasses were taped in the middle; attestation to the many times Dudley had hit him. Maybe their relationship would change now that they were both going to attend a secret magic school.

 

Ten minutes later Harry entered the kitchen where his aunt sat reading the newspaper. “Good morning”, he said without getting an answer. He was used to this, of course, and decided to ignore it. He walked over to the fridge and got the milk; somehow he was in the mood of cornflakes today. Since his aunt had probably eaten already and his cousin was still asleep, he didn’t have to serve breakfast and could choose something he liked. He opened the bag of milk and smelled on it to check if it had gone bad yet. If Harry had ever had a talent, smelling if the milk was still drinkable was not it. After taking a sip from the bag, he decided that he could probably still drink it without suffering consequences.

A bowl full of cereal and milk in his hand, he sat down at the table, on the chair furthest away from his aunt. He started eating, savouring the flavours in his mouth. “Eat quietly.” Harry stopped in mid-air when hearing his aunt’s words. He didn’t know what he had done to annoy her. Maybe it was the clinking of the spoon against the bowl. Maybe he was chewing too loudly. He couldn’t be certain with a vague critique like that. He still did his best to be more quiet.

He was chewing his last spoonful when he saw the postwoman approach the house. Petunia, who was sitting with her back to the window, didn’t notice. Harry, however, tried to hurry over to the sink as low-key as possible, put the empty bowl in it, and then walked towards the door. His aunt looked up from her newspaper and followed him with her eyes. “Do you mind me going outside? It’s such nice weather today”, he said when he noticed her staring. She made a noise of agreement and continued reading. As soon as he was in the hallway with the kitchen door closed behind him, he sighed quietly. 

Harry turned his head in direction of the door and saw a stack of post lying on the doormat. He hurried to check the pile for another letter from Hogwarts. The professor had said that there would be another letter but the last few days he had been disappointed. He flicked through the letters and found a few for his uncle which probably contained bills of some kind. Between two leaflets he finally found what he was looking for. There they were, two identical looking letters addressed to himself and his cousin. Just to be sure, he put the letter that weren’t of interest to him back on the mat before going upstairs. Listening at Dudley’s door if the other boy was still sleeping, he started opening the one addressed to him.

 

Dear Mr Potter,

 

with this letter we would like to inform you that later today someone will fetch you and your cousin from your home and take you to Diagon Alley. Be ready to leave any moment. We are looking forward to teaching you.

 

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

  
  


He knocked on Dudley’s door without thinking and entered right away. Closing the door behind him, he walked over to his cousin’s new bed. The other boy was snoring as loudly as ever, so Harry decided to shake him a bit until he would wake up. Nothing happened when he did, though, so he started shaking him harder. “Dudley! Wake up!” He didn’t understand how his stupid cousin could still be sleeping. It was as if he was dead. Harry himself always had a light sleep and would wake up at the slightest hint of sound. Upon the sixth try, however, his cousin finally woke up.

Dudley opened his eyes slightly and swatted Harry’s hand away. “What are you doing? Leave me alone!” The boy turned around, pulled his sheets up to the chin and closed his eyes again, obviously trying to get back to sleep.

“Wake up, the letters arrived.” It didn’t take much more to do to make Dudley sit up straight in his bed. Staring at Harry, who was waving the letters around in front of his cousin’s face, he started rubbing his eyes before reaching for the envelope. Harry thought that the other boy’s letter would probably say the same as his but he was still eager to find out if there would be extra information in this one. He observed as his cousin opened the letter and started to read.

“I need money. A lot, it seems.” Dudley showed Harry his letter which turned out to do have additional information, just as Harry had hoped. It said something about an amount of money his cousin would have to take to the shopping trip. The letter suggested him to take roughly  £1000 with him. Harry scratched his head and frowned. There hadn’t been anything about money in his letter. He wondered why his cousin always got extra info while he only got the most important ones.

“My letter didn’t say anything about money.” Harry showed Dudley his own letter in return, upon which the latter frowned. “I wonder why that is.” His cousin shrugged and decided to let Harry alone with his newly found doubts. Watching his cousin grab a few clothes and leave the room, he was now left standing awkwardly next to Dudley’s bed. He thought about it again. Maybe he didn’t need money because his parents had been wizards. Maybe he had inherited something from them. He couldn’t find an answer and decided to let it go for the moment. Whoever was going to come and get them would probably be able to tell him.

 

Approximately half an hour later, Harry heard his cousin leaving the bathroom and walking down the hallway. He was sitting in his room, impatiently waiting for the Hogwarts person to finally arrive. The alarm clock which he was staring at had just changed the last of its digits when he could hear something from downstairs. Curiously, he got up from his bed and tried to open the door as quietly as possible. “You need what?!” It was his aunt’s voice; she sounded furious.

“I need about a thousand pounds to buy some school stuff! And I need it today!” His cousin sounded desperate and Harry could absolutely understand why. It was the only chance for the other boy to become a wizard. “Somebody will come today and go shopping with Harry and me. I need the money! Please!” Harry couldn’t remember the last time Dudley had used the word ‘please’; if he had ever used it in his life.

“A thousand pounds?! What could you possibly need a thousand pounds for? This is ridiculous. Is the uniform you need made of gold?” Harry could hear his aunt sit down at the table. “Fine. I will give you the money you need. I am still not happy about you going to this horrible pace, you know. You should stay with us and go to a normal school.” Petunia had started guilt tripping Dudley now but Harry doubted that it would work. Nobody would pass a chance to become a wizard. Not even someone as stupid as his cousin.

“I am not staying here! I will go to Hogwarts, whether you like it or not!” That was it. The end of the argument. Harry could clearly hear it in Dudley’s tone of voice which was so similar to Vernon’s and which made it clear that the discussion was now over.

Harry had heard enough and closed the door. He would spent some more time waiting for whoever was going to come to get them. He could hardly contain his excitement; every minute was pure torture. Yet he would have to endure a lot more minutes. He walked over to his bed and sat down, ready to start staring at his alarm clock again. Looking at the time, he realised how little time really had passed. It was 10.46am. It had hardly been 2,5h since he had gotten up. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes under his glasses when he suddenly heard an engine roaring. 

Harry got up, looking out of the window. It was way too early for his uncle to return, so it had to be someone else. He hadn’t exactly expected a wizard arriving in car but he was glad that they were arriving at all. Looking left and right, he couldn’t see a car, though. All he could see was a motorbike. Rubbing his eyes again, he checked for the person on it once more. At first sight, it had looked like a grown man on a miniature motorcycle, or maybe a giant man on a normally sized motorcycle. When looking again, there was no man there at all. Was he going mad? Harry didn’t dare to leave the window although he couldn’t see anyone anywhere. He couldn’t leave the window now. What if he missed the man and he didn’t know where they lived? But then suddenly Harry was out of the room fast as lightning as someone pounded on the front door.


End file.
